


Coffee and Kidneys

by MissPixyStick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, coffee instead of tea, mentions of cannibalism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-25
Updated: 2016-05-25
Packaged: 2018-06-10 15:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6962752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissPixyStick/pseuds/MissPixyStick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Sherlock and John spend a lovely morning chatting about coffee, kidneys and Johns thighs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee and Kidneys

The wrapping along with the stitches itches, it hurts to scratch. I can see a bit of blood that has pooled and seep through the night gathering in the crisp white gauze. Fingers are toying with the edges, lifting a bit just to take a quick peek, like a child trying to figure out a Christmas gift. Light pressure makes my wince, walking is going to be agony.

“What are you doing?” It comes of quiet, like a sigh, barely any noise.

“Checking out my handy work.” He lifts the gauze again; his smile is dangerous. “Have I ever told you that you have the most delicious thighs?”

“You may have mentioned it last night.”

“Was this when I was craving off a piece?” He bites his lip lightly; no doubt remembering how he ran his knife through my skin.

“No,” I capture his chin and till his face up towards mine, “when you were making the pan sauce to pour of it.”

His lips are soft against mine, chapped and warm. I should be feeling betrayal or disgusted that most nights my partner looks at my more as a main course then human, but I really can’t be bothered. His breath is sweet, mouth hot has molten lead, my tongue quickly finds his. 

“I will kill you.” He murmurs this against my lips, a nip follows.

“Yes, I believe that’s the hundred and sixth time you have told me this.” I open my eyes, not remembering when they shut. His eyes are on fire.

“Hundred and seventh.”

I have to chuckle at that, he shivers as my breath sweeps over his cheeks.

“Oh yes, my mistake.” He lays his head back down on the pillow before drawing the sheet over his shoulders.

“John.” He’s directing more of his speech to his pillow then to me, “Would you let me do it again?”

I have to stare at him for a moment and really think about how to answer he has presented me with. On the one hand I know I should be fighting him, screaming for any human within a 30-mile radius to come and save me. I should be cupping his cheek and smiling at him, that would be entirely wrong in situation like his. 

“Sherlock, you already have my heart so it would be selfish not to let you have the rest.” It’s as cheesy out loud as it was in my head but the smile I get from him as a reply helps calm repulsion from the answer I gave.

“If I took your whole leg what would you do?”

“I imagine you will take it sooner or later.” He shakes his head; I have to loosen my grip on his cheek.

“Lovely dream, but I don’t want to whole thing.” 

It’s torture moving away from him, mostly for the fact that every little twitch sends a jolt of pain through me. I moan softly has I slowly make is towards the edge of our bed, one foot one the ground and a hand around my forearm. Sherlock is leaning over, a glare on his face, his grip tightens.

“I didn’t give you permission to leave.” I have to roll my eyes are him.

“Oh, excuse me my liege.” His eyes narrow to slits, finger nails are leaving marks in my flesh, he’s dramatic. Finally, he relents and flops face first back onto the bed, a sigh escapes him. “What a queen you are.”

“Where are you even going?” 

“Bathroom then I believe the coffee pot has been calling my name for the last 10 minutes.” He’s stretching, back arches off the bed, my mouth waters. I suppose we have this in common, because then I see the sheets slip down his back and expose his pale skin I want to devour him.

I have to leave; my leg is in no condition for the sweaty scenes that are playing in my head. I barely have time to brace myself for the cold tile of the restroom and pray I can be done with this task a quick as possible. The room is an icebox, too cold for a normal person to live, yet I can almost bet that his majesty will be complaining that it’s too hot by midday.

I almost skip washing my hands. It’s like tiny needles hitting my skin when the water runs over them. The cold water clears my mind a bit, the gauze stands out in the bright lights and I wonder if I should change it.

“After coffee.” It’s slightly muffled through the door.

“Of course.”

My cell phone is ringing from the kitchen, curious. The hallway is a bit warmer, the sudden temperature changes causes a shiver to flow up my spine. 

“If this is you calling me I’m going to shove the phone down your throat.” When I reach it it’s already silent, the light is still on telling me about the called I had just missed. 

“New message from Sherlock.” I pinch the bridge of my nose.” Sherlock, just yell it if you want to say something!” My phone goes off again. I turn towards the coffee machine.

I can hear him walking into the space a few minutes later “This is taking forever.” I whine as I turn my head to look at him, pouting.

“Aw, poor thing.” He leans against the door frame, “Do your arms hurt from lifting all those heavy coffee grounds?”

“So badly.” There’s a bit of a quiver in my voice as I answer.

“Well, we can’t have that.”

“You say that, yet you make me do it every god damn morning.”

“That's because it gives me so much joy to watch you suffer.”

I know I’m glaring hard enough to take him down, I can feel in my bones that I am. Yet he stands there, against that door, with a stupid grin on his face.

“You’re a terrible person.” I snap my head around. If I have to look at that grin anymore I will be forced to throw something sharp at it.

“I’m terrible for many reasons, but this isn’t one of them.”

“I hate you so much.” 

“You wish you did.”

“You wish I didn’t.” 

I don’t even realize how close he’s gotten to me until I feel his arms around my waist. His breath is hot against my neck; the scent of peppermint surrounds me.

“Made a mistake.” I switch on the machine, and it shakes to life--time for a new one.

“Mistake?”

“Oui, monsieur.”

“What mistake?”

“Well you brushed your teeth before your coffee, you know it’s going to taste like ass now.” I can feel his laughter in my lungs.

“I’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Um, yeah, I mean I’m not going to do anything to help you in this situation.” I can see his eyebrow twitch.

“Tell me why I love you again?”

“Couldn’t tell you if you gave me the rest of our lives.” I push my rump back. He moves just enough for me to escape his arms and take a seat at the kitchen table. I’m not there for ten seconds before he is across from me, nose scrunched up like he smells something rotten.

“What’s with the face?” 

He doesn’t answer. He’s up and moving towards the fridge. The door taps the counter. All I can see is his ass sticking out as he searches for the cause of his torment. 

“There you are.” He turns with a Tupperware container in his hand. Grinning like a fool who’s caught a game winning ball, he makes an attempt to throw it at me.

“If you ever want to have sex again I suggest you rethink everything you’re doing with your life at this very moment.” 

His eyes go wide as he regards what I’ve just said. He doesn’t believe me, idiot.

“Oh, fine!” He storms over to the table and slams the container down. I take a closer look at the specimen he has brought forth. All I can do is point at it.

“Explain.”

“Kidney.” I cork an eyebrow at him.

“Who’s?”

“Not whose darling, what’s?” I have to fight so hard against the eye roll I want to give him.

“Alright, honey, what’s?”

“Cow.”

I hold out my hands, curling my fingers. I wait for him to place the container into them. When he does I peer inside. It looks like any other piece of meat. He knows how to skin them. I can tell that the fat has been removed and some of the parts are missing.

“What did you make with this?” I’m still staring into it; I can almost make him out through the plastic.

“Remember that stew last week?” 

“The one we had when Harry was over?” I wouldn’t say I dropped the container, more like I forgot how to use to my fingers for a millisecond. 

“That’s the one.”

“Harry’s a vegetarian!”

“Yes, I know.” He grins in a way that makes it look like he has so many teeth in his mouth.

“You’re the worst.”

“That’s beside the point.” 

“It’s the whole point.” He waves his hand in a dismissive fashion, little shit that he is. He stands after a moment and starts move to the trash can.

“Whole thing.” He’s not looking at me.

“It’s a waste.”

“What it is biohazardous rubbish.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Whole thing.” I can hear him groan as he drops the mess into the can. He’s a good boy when he does what he’s told.

“I could have used that container again.” He comes back to the table, taking to seat closer to mine this time.

“No.”

“You’re so unfair.”

“I’m only this unfair because it shows how much I love you.” I reach over and try to pinch his cheek. I get my hand swatted away.

“Well if that’s the case then stop loving me so much.”

“Rather not, just saying.” At that moment I can hear the last of the water working its way through the grounds, my mouth begins to fill with saliva.

“Be a dear and get the milk out for me.” I leave the table to fetch mugs. I can smell it now, rich and dark. If I didn’t think I would look crazy I would fall to my knees and weep for joy. Though I do share a bed with someone who eats human, maybe my crazy would be a bit more acceptable. 

“One day I’m not going be here for you to boss around like this.”

“Good heavens,” I press the back of my hand against my forehead as I fall against the counter, “whatever shall I do when that day comes? Perhaps find a younger model who won’t give me so much lip.” 

“You’re not as funny as you think you are.”

“No, I’m pretty sure I am.”

The coffee is hot in our hands. The sun is just starting to make an appearance; rays fall across the tile floor. It’s truly quiet for the first time, and the coffee burns all the way down, hitting our stomachs like lite matches.

“I’m not going to take anymore from the legs.”

“I’m slightly offended.” I can see his lips quirk up at the corners.

“I like them the way they are.”

“They’d be the same.”

“Might be.” He looks over at me with a small smile on his lips. “Still, I want to keep them as they are, for now.”

“I’m not going to argue.”

“Be stupid if you did.”

“Anyone ever tell you what a charmer you are?”

We are quiet again for a bit after that, the morning fades around us, yet we don’t move from the little bubble we have created. Finally, a loud barking breaks the silence, he looks over at me. 

“Have you ever thought about having a normal life?” 

The question comes out in a whisper, it startles me. Really the moment I met this man I knew I was throwing normal right out the window, never rejected it. I meet his eyes, there’s uncertainly dancing in them.

“No.”  
“No?” 

“Normal is for the birds.”  
There is probably more I could have said, more I could have expressed, but my answer makes him giggle and that’s enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Life is full of mistakes and so is this fic. I'm shit at editing, lol.


End file.
